Q: Why didn’t the skeleton go to the party?
A: He didn’t have the guts.
Or she. Me. I don’t think I have the guts for all the stuff that’s cranking up for the “holiday” season.
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Or he. Me. In the same boat. Not dreading it, not hating it … just worn out by it. A lament which sometimes makes the day hard to begin “well and serenely.” But there you have it: ever treading the tightrope between the real and the ideal.